


Thoughts

by Nath



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-07-27
Updated: 2002-07-27
Packaged: 2017-10-18 12:25:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/188869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nath/pseuds/Nath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A man and a woman on a beach... Features Tuor and Idril.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thoughts

_A short stretch of beach, bordered by low dunes overgrown with high grass._

 _A man, on the beach. A woman watching him, sitting on a dune, half-hidden by the tall grass._

He walks up this path every morning now, before he goes to work on his ship, and stands there, looking at the sea, listening for something.

And every morning I follow, and sit here, watching.

No longer he is the shining young lord who walked into the King's hall in Gondolin to speak the words given him by Ulmo. There are lines in his face now and the gold of his hair is tempered with silver.

How much time is left us before he journeys where I cannot follow? We've had so little time together. Just 25 years of the Sun I have been his wife; and our son is a man grown. Harsh indeed seems now the Fate of Man, to be given so short a time in Arda.

And yet, I know the call he hears is not that of time catching up with him, with us.

The Sea.

He hears the call of the Sea.

The Sea....

How else could it be for one who has seen Ulmo rise from the waves?

Dwelling here on the coast is not enough anymore. The sea-longing is growing too strong. He tries to hide it, yet I see it. The longing burns in him. He is restless.

Soon he will want to set sail.

Eärrámë is nearly finished.

Soon.

The Sea. Sometimes I think I can almost hear its call myself. Or is it but the echo of the Sea speaking to him?

He fears to let me know the Sea is growing too strong for him to resist its call. He fears that I would not go, or would try to hold him back, so he says nothing.

I will not let him depart alone, yet where would we go? The West is closed to those who dwell on these shores. None of our messengers came back, save Voronwë, and that was only through Ulmo's intercession.

And even if Ulmo would protect him, and a mortal be allowed to find Valinórë, that road is barred to me for the blood shed at Alqualondë; yet no blood was shed by me.

Still, where else could we go? I know what lies north. The coast is now held against us and in the end we would only find the Helcaraxë.

South? Or just set sail and see where the winds take us?

 _The woman stands up and walks across the beach to where the man stands. She slips an arm around his waist, and he reciprocates the gesture._

 _They stand looking at the sea together for a while, while the wind rustles through the tall grass behind them._

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short Silmarillion-inspired piece. Originally written in 2002, and one of the first stories I published.


End file.
